


Be My Little Baby(doll)

by LilyInTheSnow



Series: Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bottom Steve Rogers, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Closeted Character, Daddy Kink, Dom Bucky Barnes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Holy crap that's an actual tag, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Shrunkyclunks, Spanking, Steve Rogers Cries, Steve Rogers Feels, Sub Steve Rogers, Sugar Baby, Sugar Daddy, Top Bucky Barnes, mention of past relationship (Steve), so many feels, so very very many feels, sorta - Freeform, uh...I guess that's it, via crashing the Valkyrie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:09:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23532847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyInTheSnow/pseuds/LilyInTheSnow
Summary: Conversation is had. Tears fall. Bucky comforts his babydoll and maybe spanks him a little bit too.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668754
Comments: 31
Kudos: 275





	Be My Little Baby(doll)

**Author's Note:**

> Feels got in my smut. Lots of feels.  
> I tagged to the best of my ability, however if there is something else you feel needs tagged please let me know and I will add the appropriate tag(s).   
> Heed the tags.  
> Title is based on Be My Baby by The Ronettes.

It's been three weeks since Steve's been back to his SHIELD issue apartment.  _ The _ SHIELD issue apartment he guessed. It was never really his. Just somewhere they stuck him to keep an eye on him when he refused the little place out in the middle of nowhere. Even after being frozen for seventy years he was still a city boy through and through and the place would've driven him crazy. Even if Dr. Banner said it was nice. Dr. Banner liked solitude, sometimes even required it, but Steve did not do well with it at all. Mostly, he was sure, because being surrounded by people quieted his mind. Made things other than his anxieties a priority. Made him not have time to mourn all that he had lost, had missed when he'd crashed into the arctic with no thought of living through it. Therapy had been suggested by numerous people, something that might help his survivor's guilt they said. So far he had refused and Bucky had only brought it up the once. Trusting that Steve will go when he's ready and not a moment before.

Three weeks into their relationship and Bucky already knows more about him than anyone else ever has. The older man's easy to open up to. Kind and understanding and he can take Steve out of his head. Give him orders that Steve jumps to complete. It's not always sex. Though sex does have a lot to do with their relationship. It's little things. Take a bath. Wash the dishes. Organize the bookshelves. Learn to cook. He's only set the fire alarm off three times so far. It gives him something to do while Bucky's out running his company. Something that's not sitting on the couch staring out the floor to ceiling windows that offer a gorgeous view of Manhattan. Something that's not destroying punching bag after punching bag. That's not being a slave to SHIELD and the World Security Council.

He'll help if they really need it. If the world needs saving Captain America will be there. But Steve Rogers? He's done fighting. For now at least. 

He gave up everything, lost his entire world and it didn't seem to make much of a difference. There's still Nazis. Still rampant racism and homophobia. All the things he hoped would be gone are still here. Maybe there's no Hydra anymore, but his death and the sacrifice he and thousands of others made doesn't seem to have made much difference at all.

Well, there's some things, he guesses. Queers can get married now. That's always a plus. Something he hadn't dared to dream of before. The knowledge that if he and Bucky wanted to they could go right then and there and tie the knot. Though it is way too soon to be thinking about it. Much less know if Bucky identifies as queer or something else. Steve knows queer has mostly fallen out of use due to homophobia, but is making a return. Fairy, he learned quickly, is offensive. Though he wishes it wasn't. He'd considered himself a fairy before, when he was smaller, younger. All these new words and new sexualities. Things that have names now that didn't before. It's good. It's swell. It's  _ great _ . It's confusing as hell and he tries very hard not to offend anyone. Not to stare at the same sex couples he sees walking down the sidewalk, eating together, trading kisses and playing with each other's hair. All in public with no one, mostly no one, treating them badly for it. He could appreciate that. Even if it sometimes made him jealous that he and Bucky couldn't.

It was something Steve hated about himself, being jealous, but he was the one who had decided that the world couldn't know Captain America was a fairy. Well, mostly it was SHIELD after they'd found his gun and it's sweetheart grip had a picture of his Daddy in it instead of a dame. He hadn't even tried to pass him off as a friend. Why bother when he'd been dead and gone by the time they had found it? The gun had been returned to him and he had hidden it away, unable to look at the man he had loved. He'd died in the war before Steve had even gotten the serum. Steve hadn't given himself time to mourn after getting the telegraph, had powered through his grief with sheer stubbornness. Had tried, anyway. Though in moments like this it reared its ugly head.

"You're brooding again, sweetheart. What is it that's got those blue eyes so sad today?"

Steve met Bucky's eyes in the reflection on the window. Startled that he hadn't even noticed him come in.

"I'm not brooding."

Bucky only raised a brow. He knew when his babydoll was brooding. It had taken him less than twenty-four hours to figure out what Steve looked like when he was brooding and this? This was brooding of an epic caliber. "Tell me."

Steve sighed, turned to face him with an apologetic smile. "I'm not out."

"Of the Army?" The last talk they'd had about Steve's military career Steve had said he was getting out and staying out. That he'd still go on Avengers level missions, but nothing less than that. Had even talked about giving the shield, that now hung over the fireplace until he needed to use it, to someone else. Letting someone else have the mantle of Captain America. 

"The closet." He barely resisted rolling his eyes at his...well, Bucky wasn't exactly his Daddy. But he wasn't  _ not _ his Daddy either. Sugar Daddy, Natasha had told him the last time he'd spoken to her. Still, Bucky was his Daddy in all but name. Or maybe Sir would be more appropriate. Master, even, though Steve liked Sir more. He'd called all of his superiors Sir. Had hated when the Howlies had called him Sir and made them call him Cap when the brass wasn't around. He wasn't a Sir. He was a fairy. A punk. A babydoll. He was bossy, had fought when he had to, or when he thought he had to, to stand up to the bullies that threatened people that were weaker than they were, but that was different. So much different. He needed a Sir much more than he wanted to be one.

"Is that something you want," Bucky asked even though he knew Steve would hate it. He hated that Bucky was so practical. That he asked the important questions. That he sometimes had to make him pause and think things through when he just wanted to throw himself at them and let whatever happened happen.

"I don't know," his babydoll said with a shrug. "My heart says yes. My brain tells me it'll be a fucking disaster. One I'm not sure I'm ready for."

"And the rest of it?"

"What do you mean?"

"What is there that has you thinking about this?"

"Jealousy," he admitted after a moment as he turned back to the windows and stared down at what he imagined was all the couples rushing from place to place, looking so tiny from the penthouse. In reality they were bigger than he was. Braver than he was. "They don't have to hide, Bucky. All my life I've been hiding away and they don't have to. Some do, by choice or circumstance, but not all of them. They don't have to hide. You don't hide. I do."

Bucky came up behind him, wrapped strong arms around him and kissed his neck, hooked his chin over his shoulder to stare out the window with him. Steve sighed and leaned back into his embrace, rested his hands over Bucky's where they were clasped together over his stomach.

"You don't have to anymore. Not if you don't want to. Whenever you're ready, babydoll, I'll be here to help you."

"What if I'm never ready?"

"Then you're not ready. Don't let anyone or anything pressure you into doing something you're not ready for." Steve nodded, not really agreeing with Bucky, but letting him think he was. And Bucky knew it.

"Can I show you something?"

"Of course."

"We need to go to the apartment they gave me. It's still over there." He still hadn't gotten all of his things, not that there had been much to begin with. He enjoyed staying with Bucky, once he got used to the fact that Bucky owned the whole building  _ and _ several of the fancy cars in the parking garage. He still wasn't used to it if he was being honest. It was a lot to take in. He had time though. As much time as he needed, Bucky said. Steve wanted it to mean forever even though he knew better than to rush into something like this. There was just something about Bucky that made him want to rush. To jump in head first and not care if he drowned. He didn't know if it was because Bucky was the only person in the modern world that had known what he needed or if it was because he had been lonely and now he wasn't. He had been overwhelmed with all the choices he had been given. Overwhelmed with the loss of everything he'd ever known. Bucky helped calm his mind. Helped him concentrate on the present and not the past.

"Okay." Bucky kissed his neck again, a loud, wet, smack then turned him loose. "Do you want to ride your bike?" 

The mention of his vintage Harley brought a small smile to his face, but he shook his head. He wasn't in the right frame of mind to ride it. Would rather sit in the car with Bucky and hold his hand when he wasn't shifting gears. Hold his thigh when he was. Or like the one time Bucky had him holding the older man's cock, making him extremely thankful for tinted windows. Even if the idea that people might be able to see them had made him blush and turned him on so much that he'd begged Bucky to let him get off before they went in the restaurant. Bucky had said no and he had shamefully walked into the restaurant with his jacket folded over his arms to hide the erection straining at the crotch of his trousers. He had loved every excruciating minute of it and knew Bucky had too.

"You should probably drive."

"Okay, babydoll."

As soon as they were in the car Steve latched onto him, hand gripping his thigh as he shifted gears and pulled out of the parking garage. He knew whatever Steve would show him weighed heavily on his mind. Some part of his past he hadn't shared yet, Bucky figured. He didn't bother with useless platitudes. Just let him hang on to him while he stared out the car window at a city that was at once too familiar and too foreign. Manhattan wasn't as hard to deal with, Bucky knew, because Steve had rarely been there. Too poor or too sick or both. Brooklyn though, Steve avoided like the plague. Bucky knew he'd grown up there, gone to George Washington High School and Auburndale Art School for a year. Steve had told him that everything was too different there. Brooklyn had changed so much while he'd been away. He wasn't sure he could ever go back there again because it was all so different and it broke his heart every time he even so much as thought about Brooklyn.

Bucky was also pretty sure there had been a lover there. Or a few lovers. He didn't know the number and didn't ask. Steve would tell him when he was ready and if not it didn't matter. There had to have been at least one lover for Steve to avoid the place like he did. Someone that hadn't come home or had passed away while Steve was gone. There had to be something else besides everything being completely different with the way Steve acted. As if everything changing wasn't enough to drive him away.

"Babydoll? If you're not ready to show me whatever it is we can go home."

"No, I am. I want you to know. I'm just...melancholy, I guess."

"Okay, sweetheart."

As soon as Bucky parked the car Steve moved to get out and he grabbed his hand to stop him. "Hey. Slow down, Steve. Whatever it is will still be there even if you don't run for it. Okay?"

"I'm sorry, Bucky."

"It's alright." Bucky pulled him into a slow, easy, kiss. Something to calm him down. He was jittery and nervous and wanted to rush through it, but Bucky knew better than to let him do it. "You're okay," he whispered when he pulled away. Steve took a shuddering breath in then let it out with a heavy sigh.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He cupped Steve's cheek in his hand, breathing with him for a long moment. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

"Yes, Bucky."

"Okay." Bucky kissed him again then slowly dropped his hand from his cheek. "Let's go."

When they reached the door to Steve’s apartment the blond unlocked the door with a heavy sigh. Bucky rubbed a hand in a circle at the small of his back and kissed his temple then followed him inside.

There wasn’t much to the apartment. A utilitarian couch, coffee table, side tables and an older model TV that likely didn’t work or only had SHIELD approved channels on it. Like any of that would have made Steve feel welcome in the place. But had come with him before, to pick up some of his things, but the place looked even sadder since Steve hadn’t been back in three weeks. Bucky hated all the shit SHIELD had tried to do to his babydoll after he’d woken up from the ice they’d found him in.

“Did I tell you what they did when I first awoke?”

Bucky tore his gaze from the minimal furniture in the room and shook his head. He had a feeling he wouldn’t like whatever it was Steve was going to tell him.

“They had an old wireless. A radio,” he corrected himself, as if Bucky wouldn’t know what a wireless was, but he supposed some people wouldn’t. “Playing a baseball game. The room was set up, had all the vintage stuff in it. What would’ve been new to me if it was actually still the 40’s. I’d been at that game with my Da-my partner. He took me as a surprise. He didn’t have much, but he still managed to treat me to things. I was his punk.” Steve smiled sadly, tears in his eyes and voice, and Bucky wanted to wrap him in his arms and promise him the world. Promise him that he’d always be safe. That he would never try to trick him or treat him badly. Never abuse the trust he’d shown him. He wanted to dismantle SHIELD and put an end to their conniving bullshit. If Stark knew anything about it, Bucky would kick his ass. Metal suit or no.

“They thought it would make it easier to tell me I’d woken up seventy years in the future. I don’t know who the fuck decided that, but I could tell it was wrong. Little things most people probably wouldn’t have noticed. But I knew it was wrong. I ran. Wound in up Times Square. It was so much...more than what it used to be. Everything was. Everything still is. It’s more. Bigger. Some of it’s better, but sometimes I wish they hadn’t found me. I’d have laid there and never known that I lost everything.”

“Your partner?”

“No. Not him,” Steve said quietly as he walked over to a section of wall and pushed on it. It slid open and Steve reached in and pulled out what looked like a gun case. Was a gun case, Bucky realized when Steve turned toward him with it in hand. A wooden box with glass in the lid. “Wanna sit?” Bucky nodded and only sat when Steve sat on the couch in the middle, letting Bucky choose which side he wanted to sit on. “He was mine.” Steve held out the box and Bucky took it carefully, looking into the box to see an old pistol with a translucent grip, yellowed from age. Inside the grip was a picture of a man in uniform. He was handsome with dark eyes, a straight nose, and square jaw. “He was my Daddy. We didn’t...he called me his punk, sometimes his baby boy, but we didn’t...there wasn’t age play. Not really. Not that there’s anything wrong with it,” he added quickly, just in case he accidentally offended Bucky. “We just didn’t do that. He took care of me and I took care of him when he’d let me." He sniffled and Bucky carefully sat the box on the coffee table and then pulled Steve into his arms. “He died. He was barely gone for a month after Basic and I got a telegram. He put me down as his cousin, I think they knew the truth, but they sent it anyway. My Daddy died and I never got to see him again. It’s the only picture that’s left. We had some pictures of us from a photobooth at Coney Island the one time he got to take me, but I can’t...I couldn’t find them.” He was sobbing now, harsh, wracking, cries that filled the small, mostly empty, apartment. 

Bucky could only hold him, let him cry. Letting Steve cry it out would help him more than anything else Bucky could do, not that he could do much anyway. It pained him to feel helpless, to not be exactly sure of what his babydoll needed, but this he could do. He could hold his babydoll while he cried and later, after Steve went to sleep for the night, he would start tracking down Steve's things. Someone had to know where they went. He would start with the asshats at SHIELD, the ones that had basically told Steve he wasn't allowed to be anything other than an cis gender, heterosexual male. Fucking assholes.

"I'm so sorry you lost your Daddy, babydoll. I know it doesn't help, but I'm so very sorry."

“It’s been decades and no one remembers him anymore,” Steve cried. “No one but me.”

“How many years has it been for you though, babydoll? You gotta remember it wasn’t that long ago for you, Steve. A handful of years. You didn’t get to properly mourn your Daddy.”

Steve pulled back from him, a look Bucky wasn’t sure he wanted to decipher in his tear filled and bloodshot eyes.

“I didn’t want to. I was angry. So angry. At him for going and leaving me behind. At the stupid fuckin’ Nazi fucks that took him away from me. I tried to get in the Army. Tried to follow after him, but they wouldn’t let me in. I was too little. Too sick. Too useless,” he said with a sneer and a growl. “Doctor Erskine found me. Saw me trying to get in. He gave me a chance to get back at them and I took it. I got them, Buck. I got the ones that killed my Daddy and it...it didn’t help, because then I wouldn’t have had anything left. Schmidt was the last one. Everyone thinks I’m a hero. That I did it because it was the right thing to do. It  _ was _ the right thing, I fuckin’ hate bullies, but I didn’t do it for the right reasons. I did it because they killed him, because they took him from me. After Schmidt disappeared, after he died or got taken away or whatever it was that happened, what did I have to live for? He was the last of them and he was gone. I probably could’ve landed, jumped out somewhere. Something. I didn’t. Why bother, right? So I crashed it. Hoped it would take me with it. It was so fucking cold, but the only thing I remember thinking was that I was gonna get to see my Daddy again. Surely I’d done enough to earn that.” Steve huffed, shook his head. “Guess I was wrong. I woke up and the whole fucking world had changed.”

“Jesus Christ, babydoll.” Bucky pulled Steve back into his arms, held him close as he sobbed and combed the fingers of one hand through blond locks. “Thank you for telling me. I’m so sorry you ever went through any of it, but thank you. You’re so good, babydoll. You’re such a good dolly for me.” 

“I don’t feel like it.”

“What do you need, babydoll?” Bucky would give him anything he asked for, as long as it was safe.

“I don’t want another Daddy. Not yet.” Even though Bucky understood, it still broke his heart a little bit to hear it. “Will you be my Sir instead? For now?” They had talked about it before, the day after they’d met and Bucky had basically hidden him away from SHIELD until the Widow had shown up and tried to take Steve away from him. The day he hadn’t let him go because he’d seen the light in his eyes go out. He’d do anything he could for him and always would until Steve decided he was done. Honestly being a Sir wasn’t that much different from being a Daddy, not for him. Bucky would still get to spoil his babydoll. Still get to buy him things and take him places. Still get to give him orders and praise and reward him when they were completed. Punish him when they weren’t.

“Of course I will, babydoll. Anything you need.” Steve let out a quiet huff, one Bucky didn’t know if it meant he was happy about it or not and he squeezed Steve until he squeaked and wiggled out of his arms.

“Thank you, Bucky.” He looked exhausted, his face was covered in tears and snot from crying, but he still looked beautiful. There was a light in his eyes, now. A light that had been missing when Bucky had gotten home from work. Talking about his Daddy and crying it out had done him some good. “For everything. I know I’m a lot to deal with sometimes and I-” He cut off with a yelp when Bucky swatted him on the thigh.

“Who told you that?”

“No one. I know I’m a lot to handle sometimes. I get sad a lot and sometimes I get lost in my head and-” He cut off again when Bucky swatted him again and then grabbed the back of his neck tightly.

“You’re allowed to have feelings Steve. I’d rather see you cry and mourn and talk about what’s wrong than hold back from me. Understand? I want you to be able to talk to me about anything. About everything. If you just need me to cuddle you or hold you tight while you cry or while you sleep I will do it. I’m here to help you, babydoll and I can’t do that if you hide from me. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Let’s go wash your face and then we can get the rest of your things and go home.”

“My gun is the last of it.”

“Okay, babydoll.”

He stood, tugged on Steve's hand to get him to stand with him, and then led him to the tiny bathroom he knew existed in the apartment. He grabbed a washcloth and ran hot water over it, rang it out and carefully wiped Steve's tears away. Gently gliding over the bruises under his eyes, tracing the tear tracks down his cheeks. Steve took a shuddering breath, held it for a moment, and then let it out with a heavy sigh as Bucky wiped the snot from his face.

"You don't gotta."

"I know. I want to, babydoll. You want me to be your Sir, yeah?"

"Yes."

"Then let me take care of you. Be my little babydoll."

Time seemed to stand still for a long moment before Steve seemed to melt into his touch, all but collapsing against him.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good dolly." When Bucky was finished cleaning Steve’s face he tossed the rag in the sink then gave him a gentle kiss. “We’re going home. You’re going to put your gun with your Daddy in it up. Wherever you want to put it. Pick a place and it’ll stay there. I’ll never make you hide him,” he added at Steve’s questioning gaze. “He’s a part of you, sweetheart.” Bucky kissed him again because he could. Because Steve would let him. Because Steve needed the connection and if he were being honest he needed it too. What Steve had told him was a lot to take in. They both needed to take time to process and Bucky needed to offer to set Steve up with a therapy appointment. Again. Steve most likely wouldn't go and even if Bucky did order him to go it wouldn't do any good for him to go. His babydoll would be petulant and pout the entire time. He needed to choose it himself. Therapy was a little bit like rehab, Bucky thought. It wouldn't do any good to go if you didn't want to be there in the first place. Steve had to want to go on his own.

When they got home and Steve had put the gun case on the mantle over the fireplace Bucky ordered his babydoll into the bath, telling him to take his time, and then went out onto the balcony to make a few calls. He didn't want Steve to hear him. Didn't want Steve to know he was trying to track down his things. Not until he was sure he'd have something to give him besides a promise he might not be able to fulfill. He'd rather Steve not know about it at all unless he actually managed to find his belongings. He was ninety percent sure SHIELD knew exactly where his things were. 

He still called Stark first. If anyone knew where Steve's personal effects were, it would be a Stark. Hell, Tony probably had some of it in storage. Maybe Bucky wouldn't need to go to SHIELD at all. Tony promised he'd look around, if only to be a nosy dick and want things to hold over SHIELD's head when they came calling. Bucky was debating calling Natasha to see if she could find out where Steve’s things had been taken. Maybe if Tony’s digging around didn’t find anything he’d call her. It wasn’t like he had to hide his and Steve’s relationship from her. So far as he knew she was the only one that knew. Tony now too, he supposed, since he had asked him to find the pictures. He had made Stark swear not to speak a word about any of it and while he sometimes despised Stark, he knew he’d keep his word. If only because they’d known each other since childhood.

Bucky was still standing on the balcony, leaning over the glass parapet, when Steve walked out to join him. He was still wet from his bath, shirtless and scrubbing his towel over his hair, and wearing a pair of navy blue sweats that barely clung to his narrow hips.

"Do you feel better, sweetheart?" Steve nodded, draped the towel over the back of one of the wrought iron chairs, then plastered himself to Bucky.

"I'm hungry. Can we order pizza for dinner, Sir?"

"Of course, babydoll. Get a salad of some sort too, though. I can't eat like you can."

Steve sighed and slid his hand under Bucky's shirt, tracing up his abs to his chest to grope at the muscle. "Ain't nothin' wrong with you, Sir." Bucky smiled, it took a lot of work to keep in shape at his age. It was nice to see his efforts appreciated. Especially by someone built like Steve. His babydoll was a twink in all but body type, though. Sometimes Bucky thought Steve didn't realize he was built the way he was. Maybe he still wasn't used to this new body. He was bigger than Bucky, stronger definitely, but he acted so much smaller. He curled himself up in Bucky’s lap, slept curled up on his chest, made himself appear smaller. How he managed to curl up in a tiny ball, Bucky would never know. He turned his head and gave Steve a gentle kiss and decided that it probably wouldn’t hurt to have Natasha dig around for the pictures too. Just to be on the safe side.

“Go order dinner, babydoll. I got another call to make.”

“Is it work? You promised you wouldn’t work at home. Not unless it was absolutely necessary.”

That was another reason he was happy Steve had chosen to stay with him. Steve kept him from working too much as he was prone to do time and time again. He worked in his office and then at home too, but now he and Steve had an agreement that he wouldn’t work from home unless it was an emergency. 

“No, honey. It’s just a project. For us.”

“Mmm. What kind of project?” Bucky could tell by the gravel in Steve’s voice that he was hoping for something new. The ropes they’d discussed maybe. Or the remote control prostate massager. Bucky couldn’t wait to tie his babydoll up and use a prostate massager on him while he wore a cock cage. Couldn’t wait to see how Steve would react. To see how he’d looked sweat-slicked and desperate, muscles bulging as he fought to stay still and not tear the ropes apart or break the head and foot-boards. Squirming and crying and begging. Overstimulated and refusing to give up until he was too far gone to speak, to move. He’d only have eyes for Bucky, full of adoration and blue eyes blown black and Bucky would take such good care of his babydoll.

“It’s a surprise,” he murmured after a moment, already planning on ordering the rope and massager after he called Natasha. He didn’t want to owe her a favor, but Steve was worth it.

“A good one?”

Bucky sure fucking hoped so. Instead of replying he turned and bumped their noses together gently. Gave him a gentle kiss after. "Go order dinner, dolly. I'll be in soon."

"Yes, Sir." Steve gave him a quick kiss then turned and grabbed his towel on the way back inside the penthouse.

"If I find that towel on the floor when I come in, you'll get spanked." 

Steve gave him an impish grin that promised him he'd find it thrown on the floor somewhere. His babydoll was meticulous about hanging his towels and only threw them on the floor when he wanted spanked. He knew it drove Bucky crazy. The wet towels on the floor  _ and _ getting to spank that perfect ass. Either with his hands or his belt. It depended on how badly his babydoll needed it. If Steve held the marks for more than a few minutes at a time he’d keep Steve’s ass painted red. As it was he had to spank him nearly as hard as he could just to get the marks to last twenty minutes. He didn’t like to do it often. It took too much out of him and Steve and he was loath to admit it. Still, he'd give his babydoll what he needed. But first he had to call Natasha.

When she answered he bulldozed his way through the conversation. Trying to leave out as many details as possible. She probably already knew about Steve's Daddy anyway since she was SHIELD. She had probably been part of the disaster of Steve's awakening. He'd never liked SHIELD much to begin with, but after learning of their major fuck up and how they'd treated Steve, he liked them even less. Bunch of shady fuckers if you asked him. 

Natasha said she'd see what she could find though, and while he didn't trust her as far as he could throw her, he thought Steve might. Just a little bit. Hopefully either she or Stark could find out what happened to Steve's things.

When he stepped back into the penthouse, sliding the glass door shut behind him, he found Steve in the kitchen, leaning over the Italian marble topped island, his sweats riding low enough that the top swell of his ass was showing. His towel, the one that Bucky suggested be hung, was tossed in a sodden pile of purple cotton on the gilded marble floor, not two feet from him. Fuck, but he adored this sassy little shit. Far more than he should after only three weeks.

“What did I say about your towel, babydoll?”

Steve hummed, already wiggling that deliciously perfect ass of his, when he peeked over his shoulder at Bucky. “That you’d spank me if it wasn’t hung up.”

“Uh huh.” Bucky walked over to him, kicking the towel aside, and rested his hands on Steve’s hips as he leaned over him. “You need to get spanked that bad sweetheart,” he asked. Steve shuddered when Bucky nibbled on his earlobe.

“Yes, Sir.” He wiggled his ass again, rubbing up against Bucky.

“Did you already order dinner?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“How long did they say?”

“Forty minutes. That was ten minutes ago.” Bucky grinned and slid one hand around and down the front of his babydoll’s sweats, found his cock already hard and wet at the tip. He stroked him once, from base to tip then just held on, cupping his baby’s cock against his belly.

“Plenty of time.” It wasn’t really. He wanted to take his babydoll apart and put him back together, but he didn’t have enough time. Besides, after the emotional wringer Steve had gone through,going to bed after dinner would be better for him. Tomorrow Bucky would work him over, but for now he was going to spank his ass the prettiest shade of red. “Let’s see what we’re working with, babydoll. Color?”

“Green,” he answered with a sigh.

“Good boy.” Bucky pressed a gentle kiss to Steve’s shoulder, let go of his cock and then pulled back and tugged Steve’s sweats down around his knees. Steve tensed at the first gentle touch of his hands, soothing over the smooth skin of his ass. Gasped and went pliant, laying across the island when Bucky grabbed handfuls and dug his fingernails in. "There we go, sweetheart. You know it's better when you're not so tense." He pushed and pulled at the flesh and grinned when he saw the shine of slick and the base of a pink silicone plug. His babydoll had blushed a pretty pink to match, from his ears to his belly, when Bucky had presented it to him. "So fuckin' pretty babydoll." He looked up from Steve's ass and saw a flush spreading down the back of his neck and let go of his ass, patted one cheek and then the other then gave him a stinging smack. The sound of skin slapping on skin rang out and Steve gasped. Arching into it when Bucky struck him again. "Yeah, you need it bad. Don't you, sweetheart?" He looked down at his handiwork, two red handprints on the otherwise unmarked skin, and then spanked him again and again until he whined, arching into each hit that drove his hips closer to the island. His gasps and whines become sobs, his hands scrabbled at the marble, searching for something to hold onto, failing to find purchase.

His ass is nearly crimson in places, Bucky's handprints overlapping, blood risen to the skin. Bucky grabbed handfuls again, fingernails digging in to make him shudder and moan, as Bucky relished the heat coming off of Steve’s skin. He let go, leaned over his babydoll, kissed his shoulder, and then threaded their fingers together. "Hold on for me, sweetheart." Steve gripped his hands tightly, made a confused noise when Bucky leaned back, pulled his hands with him and placed them on his ass. "Here." Steve sniffled, grabbed hold, and spread himself open. "There we go, darlin'." His question of color is met with an immediate answer of green followed by a howl when Bucky struck the base of the plug, slamming it into his prostate. He watched it move as Steve clenched down on it, asked his color again, and got the same answer. Two more harsh strikes on the plug and Steve cried out as he came, come splattering on the marble tiles between his feet and on the hardwood side of the island.

Bucky watched, entranced at the growing puddle of come, and soothed his hands over his babydoll's ass.

"Holy fuck, babydoll." It was the first time Steve had ever come untouched for him. He wanted to see it again and again. Later. He loosened the grip Steve had on his ass, massaged his fingers and then leaned down to kiss his knuckles. Steve shuddered and he helped reposition his arms, rubbing his shoulders to ease the ache. "Easy now, dolly. Can you make it to the couch?"

"I think so, Sir."

Bucky knew Steve would push it, he was always testing limits, if he didn't make sure Steve actually paused to think about things.

"Do you need to lay here a minute?" Bucky was pretty sure he did. He was barely holding himself up as it was. 

"Maybe," he admitted with a spacey sounding giggle. Bucky grinned and massaged Steve's back, hips, and ass until he stopped shuddering and seemed steadier.

"Ready?"

"Yes, Sir."

Bucky carefully helped him stand then crouched down to pull his sweats the rest of the way off. Steve held onto him tightly as he guided him to the couch and made sure to lay him on his stomach. He grabbed the arnica gel and bottle of water that he'd failed to notice until now. 

"Sneaky, dolly." Steve laughed, eyes shining brightly when he looked over at him. "Drink your water." He opened the water and handed it to him, watched to make sure he was drinking it, then turned back to his babydoll's poor abused ass and squeezed out a palmful of the arnica gel even though Steve hated it. Bucky insisted though, partially to help numb the pain and partially because he got to play with his babydoll's ass a little more. The lightest of the marks were already fading and Bucky pouted. He would love to see them last a little bit longer. Still, it would be after dinner sometime when the darkest handprints would fade. It was plenty of time to admire his work.

He traced a fingernail over one of the darkest marks and Steve shuddered with a sigh.

"Feels good, Sir."

"Yeah?" Bucky tossed the gel aside, wiped what was left on his hands off on his slacks, then laid himself out across Steve, snugging his hips up against his ass to let him feel how hard he was and had been since he'd seen him bent over the island like he'd been. He always took his pleasure last. Always chose to focus on Steve's instead. "That feel good too, babydoll?"

"Yes, Sir."

Bucky rolled his hips, grinding against Steve's ass just to make him whine, and smiled against his neck when he heard the precious sound. "Gonna fuck you, babydoll. Right here."

"Now?"

Bucky checked his watch, saw that they only had a few more minutes to play. He could. Get them off fast and dirty and leave Steve a boneless puddle on the couch, but he didn't want to leave him to answer the door after.

"After dinner, babydoll. Don't want to leave you."

"Okay." Steve sighed, spread his legs just enough so that the bulge of Bucky's cock was seated against the base of the plug and Bucky grinned.

"Cheeky shit."

Steve laughed, arched up against Bucky, and then sighed. "You like it."

"Mmm, I do. You’re so needy and I wanna spoil you rotten, dolly. Give you everything you want. Even things you didn't know you wanted."

“You already do, Buck.”

“Doesn’t feel like enough. Not as much you’ve been through.”

“Hey,” Steve flailed for a second and Bucky found himself on his back under the blond, being slightly squashed into the couch cushions. “It ain’t your job to try and fix me,” he said with a glare.

“I ain’t trying to fix you. You’re not broken, Steve. You got dealt some pretty shitty hands; I’m just trying to give you some good ones.”

Steve’s glare softened as a quiet little sound of surprise fell from his lips. Like he hadn’t realized what Bucky was doing until just now. Maybe he hadn’t. Bucky reached up to comb his fingers through messy blond strands, pushing Steve’s hair away from his eyes. 

“You gave me one, Bucky. In the bookstore.”

“Can’t hurt to have a few more.”

Steve stared down at his Sir. His Bucky. Watched the way his eyes sparkled even while they held a little bit of sadness. For him. He knew Bucky had rescued him in the bookstore because he’d been so lost. He must’ve looked worse off than he had felt. Must still look that sad for Bucky to want to please him so much. To want to give him everything and more. He had the feeling, though, that Bucky would spoil him regardless. Whether he looked sad or not. It helped Bucky as much as it helped him. It had to have or Bucky wouldn’t have done any of it. Bucky needed to give him orders as much as he needed someone to tell him what to do. He needed that structure; the orders, the punishment for disobeying, the rewards for a job well done. Bucky needed a babydoll to take care of as much as Steve needed a Sir to take care of him.

Maybe he’d start asking for more things instead of waiting for Bucky to surprise him with gifts, if Bucky wanted him to have things. He’d start small and work his way up. Or maybe he’d use the credit card Buck had given him with the promise that it had no limit and he could buy whatever he wanted with it. Steve had balked when Bucky told him he was adding him to his account and when the card came in the mail with his name on it he had shoved it in the very back of the junk drawer in the kitchen in a panic. He had his own money. Not as much as Bucky, not nearly that much, but enough to get by even if he’d been paying rent or a mortgage payment somewhere. 

Bucky told him to save it for later, mentioned a savings account and a few careful investments Steve might want to make. Steve had been more interested in the way Bucky’s shirt had been unbuttoned halfway down his chest, his tie loose and hanging over his shoulders, framing the open V of his shirt. Tan skin and silvering chest hair. The way his perfectly fitted slacks clung to his thighs and ass indecently. The way Bucky’s cock had grown hard, straining at the zipper, as Steve practically devoured him with his eyes. Steve had slid off of the couch, crawled over to the bar where Bucky had been pouring himself a drink as he had talked, and earned his first spanking when he’d accidentally torn Bucky’s designer slacks in his hurry to yank them down and suck him off as quick and dirty as he knew how. He had wanted to bring Bucky to his knees. To see him shake and shudder and writhe.

Instead Bucky had been infuriating. Had merely stood there, sipping his bourbon with one hand tangled in Steve’s hair, as Steve used every trick he knew. Every trick he’d perfected before he’d become a poster boy for the Army. Bucky’s breathing had barely changed, only the smallest hitch when he came, flooding Steve’s mouth with spurt after spurt. He should’ve had to sit down, catch his breath, anything other than yank Steve up off of his knees by his hair and bend him over the barstool to give him swats for tearing up his slacks. Not that Steve had, or ever would, minded getting spanked. Steve didn't think he'd ever been so hot for anyone before. Certainly not since he’d woken up from the ice. Bucky had taken care of him after, soothed his sore flesh with the arnica stuff he insisted on using even though Steve would be mostly healed up by the time he finished rubbing it on. Mostly Steve thought Bucky insisted on it so he could play with his ass more. He had given Steve a bottle of water, made sure he drank it all and then he’d gotten him into the bath where he’d washed his hair and body and then got him out and dried him off, put him in soft flannel pajama pants and into bed with a snack of fruit and cheese and another bottle of water. Had hand fed him the tiny bites and sips of water. Had mussed him up all over again later that night, waking him up with a hand on his cock and lips on his ear. Slow and easy and perfect.

Even then he’d been unsure about where he and Bucky had stood. They had talked and talked and Steve had still refused to let himself believe what they had. But he finally let himself believe it. Now especially. Bucky was his. For however long they lasted. For as long as Steve chose him and continued to choose him. They hadn’t put a time limit on anything. Steve was free to go whenever he wanted, taking everything Bucky had given him with him when he left. If he left. Bucky might be handsome and rich beyond imagining and very charming, but he’d been lonely, Steve could tell. He had needed Steve as much as Steve needed him. Maybe in a couple months or even in as little as a couple weeks Steve would be ready to leave. Maybe he wouldn’t. For now, though, he was Bucky’s and Bucky was his.

"You still with me, babydoll?"

Steve smiled and gave him a soft kiss. "Yeah, Buck. I'm here."

**Author's Note:**

> The next chapter will be more smutty. <3


End file.
